Through Different Eyes
by DarkHonda
Summary: Oneshot. Your all-too-expected Transformation story in which Fiyero returns to his attractive human state whilst in hiding with his dear Elphaba after their escape. Fiyero POV, sorta. Might turn into a twoshot if I feel like it.


**Disclaimer:** If you know it, I don't own it.

A/N: _This piece is using book's code names for Elphaba and Fiyero and some mentioning from the book, though this takes place in the **musical**'s universe,** a while after it ends**._

**Through Different Eyes**

"Fae…"

"Yero!" She ran to him from the entrance to the cave that they called home. She didn't have to lift her black frock dress for a while now, the hems torn off as it was. "Oh, Yero, I thought you were to return only tomorrow!"

Her skinny arms wrapped him, their green colour somehow flushed. It was good to feel her so close, it gave him the reassurance that this was real; they've escaped the horror of Oz, a witch and a scarecrow. But she was his witch and he was her scarecrow and nothing could change that. However else could they survive almost a year living in the Great Kells, a rocky area western to the Emerald City? Being near the Vinkus River, and in a place where winter came early, they had to be extra careful from both water _and_ fire.

"I found apples and berries and a few Bees that have known me, I don't know how, asked me to deliver you this." He smiled and pulled a large object that was wrapped with a cloth from his straw-belly. She smiled and took it, opening it gently to reveal a well preserved honeysuckle.

Elphaba smiled and rewrapped the honeysuckle, holding it in one hand while taking Fiyero's hand in the other and leading him to their home. He allowed her to do so, leading him home. Being a scarecrow, he was never tired and never hungry, for that matter. He was lucky enough that his brain survived the transformation, a transformation that saved his life. His Fae that saved his life.

She was a saint, just like the original Saint Elphaba of the Waterfall, and though she did not believe in saints, unnamed gods or even in the Clock of the Time Dragon, he knew that she was not _wicked_. The people of Oz were blind to celebrate her supposed 'death', her sister – perhaps Nessa earned her death, with how she treated Boq, with how she abused the Munchkinlanders, but not Elphaba.

"Yero?" She whispered, her head resting on his supple shoulder.

"My love." He murmured in a low voice. If she only knew how much he loves her! He couldn't show her anymore, he couldn't even kiss her. How did she ever put up with him?

He wanted to be handsome for her.

"I love you, my hero." As if she could read his mind.

"As I love you, Fae." She made him unbreakable, unable to die and even though he lost his humanity, she gave him herself completely; he could watch her sleeping at night, the way she clung to him, she never did before, not that much. They were more than lovers now, more than friends, and even if they will never marry – she is his wife, his reason for living, his _everything_. He was pleased with his life, over all, but sometimes…

Sometimes, there were times when she played with his clothes, almost… longingly. Her voice was soft when she did that, trailing her long jade fingers upon his shirt and her eyes told him how much she missed the _other_ side of him. The side that could hold her so tight and she wouldn't sink in straw, the side that could mend the fire without having the strong phobia to stay out of its way. The side that could love her and give her the family she deserved. He wished that every night when her tired eyes closed and her mind was elsewhere, when her lips moved in her sleep and he knew how sorry she was for having to change him. He knew how she always thought he was, well, beautiful.

_Wishing only wounds the heart…_

She told him he was beautiful the first night they spent as officially 'dead' pair, staring at the stars. Looking at him with different eyes, she said, his words, and he always meant them. Elphaba Thropp was so beautiful to him that he felt sorry for every fool in Oz that couldn't see how much beauty radiates from her. _His_ Fae.

He used to think that nothing matters in life; that one should dance through life because, eventually, you turn into dust. He was such a boy! Of course life matters. It matters, if only for that woman next to him, if only for the ability to change the world as they've known it and lived to see it.

"Yero, you are awfully quiet today." Elphaba observed and he suddenly noticed she was no longer beside him, but holding the Grimmerie, the textbook that she used to save his life. Her long fingers touched the old, yellow pages gently, almost caressing-like.

If only he could feel her fingers on his skin just one more time, he would be truly happy.

He wished he could.

"Yero?" She sat up on the small pile of blankets that were brought to them by a few foxes.

"Fae, do you ever wonder what would become of us?" he asked, prying away from his distressing thoughts, the cause of her worry.

She shrugged.

He waited for her answer as he pulled from his shirt another large cloth, this time tied. It contained all the berries and apples he could collect for her and laid it near the honeysuckle.

"You know what they say: _'And there the wicked old witch stayed for a good long time.'_"

He smiled, unable to stop himself from completing;

"_'And did she ever come out?'_"

Elphaba laughed and put the Grimmerie aside, she came to him and held him tight, laying her head on the joint of his neck and shoulder.

"_'Not yet…'_" She murmured.

They said nothing for a long time. The sensation was quite different when he held her in his current state; there were no racing heartbeats nor sweaty palms or even a shallow breath from excitement. But it was wonderful because it allowed him to focus on her only, how she felt to him; he was now the weightless, the gentler and yet he was unbreakable. So odd.

"You are not wicked." He found himself saying. "Not in the slightest."

"Says you. Ozians think differently, _The Wicked_, they call me, the Wicked Witch of the West." He smiled.

"You _are_ at the West." She smiled and he knew she picked up on it.

"And I _am_ a witch." She stared at him and he knew she was waiting to see what he would say.

"But wicked you are _not_." He said in his best Price Fiyero of the Arjikis voice. He watched her smiling and taking his hand, she led him to her bed, where the book was set aside. They sat together and she put the book on her knees, opening it up on a certain page.

"This one made you a Scarecrow." She pointed at the old, strange letters; years at Shiz were not enough for him to understand one letter, whereas Elphaba, one year short of Shiz – and she was reading this language such fluently… he admired her. His gaze that was focused on the page where her finger was pointing; then moved on to her small palm and higher to her arm, shoulder, neck… until he reached her eyes where a smile waited for him.

He smiled back at her and she laughed, a moment later, she caught herself and the laughter died away as she flipped one page after the other, as gently as she could. Then, she stopped and her eyes dimmed slightly, he was worried in a flash.

What could have made her this disrupt?

"Fae…" He whispered and she looked at him, there was light in her eyes, something… different, _other_.

"Tell me." He breathed or as close to breathing as he could do, what was it that made her so tense? She looked away, and he has grown even more worried, what could have gone astray? What was wrong?

"This is what I hope would change you back." She whispered and if he had a heart, Fiyero was sure it would have stopped. Luckily, he was a Scarecrow now. A Scarecrow who had everything a man could want or most of it...

"What if I don't want to be… a man again?" He shot, not really knowing what he was saying. How could he react? What did she want him to say?

"Don't you?" She glanced at him, curious and confused.

"I have everything I want." He insisted.

"_Fiyero_ – "

"Elphaba – "

"I _took_ your looks away, your _humanity_!" She protested in the most characteristic Elphaba-ish stubbornness.

"I know you miss my _humanity_, Elphaba, but now, I am a Scarecrow, just as you are green. It's a _part of who I am_." He explained; turning into a Scarecrow, helping her escape, being able to protect her and provide her and her willingness to live with a Scarecrow, it all educated him of love, of _their_ love.

"I was born green! It's my destiny to be green and I've never known any other way to live!" She argued heatedly. "You were born human, Fiyero! For every second you are a Scarecrow you lose a human second, when you can eat, sleep, bathe and _be_."

He opened his mouth to retort but nothing came out. She was right, of course.

"Do _you_ want me to be human?" He asked all of a sudden.

"What?" She froze and he knew he caught her unprepared.

"I said – do _you_ want me to be human, Elphaba?"

She thought about it for a few moments.

"Yes." She answered sharply.

"Why do you want me to be human?" He asked and now she was more relaxed, more prepared to the new direction of the conversation.

"I just do." She shrugged and he gave her a look. "It's who you are."

"It's not enough." He decided, moving away from Elphaba and the book. He stood on his feet and started to walk out of the cave, watching the darkening skies of Oz.

"Yero." She whispered and touched his hand, looking to the ground. "I miss your eyes and the small blue diamonds tattoos. I miss the way you feel and how warm you were, I miss kissing you and running my fingers through your hair."

Her voice shook and she let go of his hand abruptly; he turned to see her drying her face with her sleeves. She was – _was_ she… crying?

"Elphaba…" He whispered and immediately closed the gap between them, holding her close.

"It's my fault they hurt you and seeing you, Yero… As a scarecrow you will always remind me how wicked I truly am." She said a painful, quiet voice, he held her slightly tighter, knowing he can't do anymore than that, except…

"Do it."

"Wh – what?" Her hands moved away from her face and he could see trail marks of tears that would not fade anytime soon – only when her skin heals again.

"Do it. Change me back, Fae." He shot.

She nodded and moved away to grab her book.

Fiyero turned to look at the skies again, now almost completely dark, he sighed and waited; it's not that he wanted to stay as a scarecrow, he was more of use as a man. He wanted to know what she liked about him, what she needed. There were things Elphaba would never tell him, he knew, and he wanted to learn about them as much as he could; he wanted to know every small grain of the green colour of her skin. Her lovely skin. It made him feel proud, the way she needed him, like he needed her. That she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He knew it was never only one sided, but Elphaba was not always verbal and sometimes, it was harder to understand her.

He still loved her, no matter what.

He could hear her chanting something that he knew he wouldn't be able to understand even in a thousand of years. He smiled. It never bothered him, how intellectual she was, it was only matched by her bravery. He loved that, he loved her daring, her sense of justice and the ambition to improve the world, even on her own expense; being remembered as 'the wicked witch of the west' was not so simple a mission...

It bothered him that no one else could see the truth. That no one was seeking the truth.

Elphaba was worthy of the truth. Sometimes he was so sure there was no God, or else someone would have known how good she was. How compassionate.

"Yero, come into the light." She requested and he nodded and complied, turning around and starting to walk back to the pile of blankets, to sit near her. He walked near the small fire they built, where the fire shimmered enthusiastically and suddenly he froze in front of Elphaba.

"Fiyero? What's wrong?" She asked immediately, sounding a little stressed.

"No, it's just… the fire. I'm not _afraid_ of the fire anymore, I – " He gulped, feeling a weird, yet altogether very familiar sensation in his throat. He raised his hands in front of him: he had a skin.

"Elphaba…" His voice shook and she immediately was in his side.

"Turn to the light." She murmured as she examined his face and he did as she requested.

She gasped.

Only then, he dared to touch his face, it was smooth as they day he was beaten to death by the Wizard's Troop Force. Unbelieving he buttoned off his shirt, throwing it to the ground in a careless abandon, hen took off his boots and trousers, letting his hands glide across the soft human skin that was so different to the harsh, uneven and unpleasant straw. The gentle pattern of blue diamond tattoos was there, too, on his biceps and ankles, on his stomach, just below the chest bone.

"Is this real?" He asked, excited and overwhelmed.

"Yero..." She murmured and gently put her hand on his chest, where his heart – he had a heart! – was now racing.

"Elphaba – "

"My hero." She whispered and she took a few small steps toward him and he closed the gap, kissing her almost violently. His arms brought her closer and tighter to himself and she didn't sink into him, he could hold her, truly, really hold her.

Her skinny arms, now looking almost too weak compared to his big arms, wrapped themselves around him as her lips blindly searched for his. There was not a single thing he wanted to grant more to someone. He kissed her again, reveling on her taste, on the way she felt to him; how fragile she was, how delicate and soft and sweet. Yes, he most assuredly missed this, missed being able to have her that close, that tight.

Her simple black frock dress was carefully pulled away and put down to the floor, being her only piece of clothing. Then, for the first time since they have made that cave their home, he joined her on the pile of blankets she called a bed.

They needed, beyond love, to hold onto each other.

Her warm green skin was never so eager accepted by anyone, the sheer welcoming of someone that recognized her as his _home_. It was something that he knew was so different to her and yet it was so natural for him. Listening to her moaning and arching her back, knowing he was the one making her this responsive, this _free_, it was almost more than he could hope.

"Yero…" She moaned as she took him inside, her voice near-angelic even in the most intense moment of need.

"Elphaba, My Fae…" He groaned, smiling for a moment when he felt her teeth on his shoulder, the familiarity of it overwhelmed his senses. Every inch in her body screamed 'home!' like it was his first time with a woman. There was no mistaking this time, no mistaking in what he is and who he belonged with.

"Fabala, my love…" He murmured low to her ear, feeling how she tightened around him, pulling him with her over the edge of the earths. They lay there, panting, sweating and entangled in each other, staring into each other's eyes wondrously.

He had never felt more whole in his entire life.

And when they've grown tired of lovemaking and his head fell tiredly near hers, he made the last effort of opening his eyes and whispered to her ear.

"There's no place like home."

Their tired laughter took a while to die.

* * *

**A/N:** Why, yes, I _have_ been listening to the Wicked CD the entire time. Let me know what you think;)


End file.
